


Metal and Magitek

by leiden_potato



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Or Is he?, aka aranea is making cow eyes, but ravus is too dense to notice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiden_potato/pseuds/leiden_potato
Summary: Snippets of interactions between Aranea Highwind and Ravus Nox Fleuret along a fuzzy canon timeline.





	1. Steel and Silk

The first time Aranea noticed the shock of white hair on the young man was on her first contract with the Niflheim army. She was to escort the twenty-something soldier from the royal palace in Gralea to his estate in Zoldara Henge for some urgent business.

Her small airship was the farthest thing from his luxury battleship and she half-expected him to make a snarky comment about the old upholstery or the messy state of the refurbished vehicle, but the stoic Lieutenant seated himself straight on the worn cushions without a single complaint. His gloved hands rested flat on his crossed knees, his icy blue eyes roamed over every face in the small enclosure and settled on hers.

"You're the captain of this ship?"

Her mouth pulled into a polite smile, internalizing the response she would have liked to spit out at the implied insult. Men in this country had a lot of trouble with a female captain. "Yes, I'm the captain, _Lieutenant_. The name's Aranea Highwind."

"Thank you for accommodating the sudden request," His voice was naturally sharp and commanding, it was hard to decide if he was being sarcastic or genuinely grateful. "My airship was damaged in the battle with the Glacian, it is yet to be ready for takeoff and this is quite the emergency."

"I see."  Aranea knew better than to ask question, especially when he's rumored to be shipped out to serve house-arrest. Punishment for some kind of insubordination in one of last week's battles. The glistening magitek choker hiding under the high collar was hard to miss; she knew exactly what wearing a tracking device was like. "I trust you are comfortable?" 

His steady gaze never flickered; defiant and guarded. The lengthy stare at his neck did not go unnoticed. "As any prisoner is allowed to be."

The pause that followed was prickly with expectation. Under any other circumstance she would allow herself to take in the attractive specimen gazing back; the sharp cut of cheekbones, tailored Tenebrean silk suit, lavish leather gloves and boots. This was not a man of her caliber, young as he was, he must be some kind of spoiled army brat who climbed up the ranks on the shoulders of a parent.

"Anything else, Captain?"

She didn't mean to ogle, sure he was attractive by anyone's standards, but it was more a matter of trying to find something to talk about. His impatience indicated that he was done, and had no intention of remembering this conversation anyway. "Sorry, _Lieutenant_."

Her emphasis on his official title seemed to... Annoy him?

The curt conversation was abandoned immediately after, they were both too guarded and acutely aware of the distance between their ranks to say anything else. Aranea wondered if there was more to him than meets the eye, and made a mental note to ask her men if they knew anything about the man who vastly outranked her while being two years her junior.

He spent the rest of the short trip in complete silence, admiring the blur of scenery outside. She spent it wondering if his hair was a brilliant white naturally or if it had grayed out with the immense stress he kept in the tight clench of his jaw.

* * *

The next time she saw him was the very first strategic meeting she was allowed to attend, graced by the his royal highness the Emperor of Niflheim himself. A part of her was giddy with excitement, but the anxiety rumbling high in her gut kept her grounded, preventing her from making a fool of herself in front of the snobby military royalty.

Ardyn Izunia had offered her a place at the table personally, the slimy man had something up his sleeve and she swore not to rile him up enough to show it. Her role was that of a spectator, anyway; she was too low of a rank to have any say in the plans to expand the Empire, it was her following of rouges and mercenaries that made her a force to be reckoned with.

General Besithia had been droning on and on for ninety minutes already, Aranea attempted to keep herself awake through the dull formalities by making up a nickname for each of the officers around her on the table. That one was eyes-up-here-asshole, the other guy was like a soggy Garulet, the tactician next to him wore her glasses so low on her nose it defeated the purpose of having them at all- cave goblin.

It startled her to find the next victim had been studying her as well, Ravus had somewhat sunk into his seat in his boredom, he rolled his eyes in the direction of the General, nose flared and mouth pulled in a subtle expression of "can you believe this guy", hoping for a reaction.

It was all she could do to keep from snortlaughing out loud.

 

 


	2. Fruitcakes and Beefcakes

 

Izunia had trapped her in a hallway just outside meeting room 3C, chastising her for allowing a group of civilians to escape the troops while reclaiming the small town of Fodina Caestino.

"They worked the mines, sir." She said for the umpteenth time. "There was no reason to waste our resources keeping them captive when we've already captured the town itself. They'll show up eventually, their wives and kids are there so..."

"That is NOT what I ordered." He said smoothly, the smile on his mouth a stark opposite to the anger simmering in golden eyes, "Do you think I give out detailed commands for the fun of it?" He waited for her reply only to interrupt her through the first words, "No. No I don't have the free time to be doing that. Then why do you suppose I do it, hmm?"

He was a towering man and it was difficult to keep herself angled away from him without physically stepping aside, which would no doubt insult him more than she already has, not to mention confirm his superiority over the situation. 

Aranea tried to keep her nose up in defiance, but it only made it look like she's struggling to accommodate his height. "My apologies, sir."

"Your apologies do nothing for my ruined plans." He leaned in closer, aware of the discomfort she shows at the invasive gesture. "You don't seem to be taking my words _seriously enough_ , and I wonder if there's nothing I can do to _remedy_ that."

She'd heard the stories, of the torture and the mind games and the mystery disappearances; it was difficult to decide whether she should be defiant or submissive to escape the dangerous man.

"Highwind." The booming voice that yanked her out of the dilemma was, to her surprise and relief, not Ardyn's.

Ravus Nox Fleuret approached casually, as if he held no weight to the private conversation he was interrupting. His formal battle attire jingled and clinked with every step, white and clean and holy, the exact opposite of every standard-issue uniform in Niflheim. All the belts and hooks that caught the light settled when he stopped two feet away to regard the uncomfortable captain, his voice and face revealing nothing but polite curiosity. "There you are, I have orders for you." 

"She's somewhat _occupied_ at the moment." Ardyn attempted to tower over the recently promoted commander, but the looming invasion of personal space he often used as an intimidation tactic doesn't work when his opponent was just as tall.

Ravus was unfazed, he actually made a point of brushing away the scarf that hung low and snagged on the third hook. "Oh, is that so? Seems to me you're displeased about your _potential test subjects_ fleeing their fates. In which case Besithia will make a more _satisfactory_ punching bag." He offered the faintest of smiles, fake and icy, wrapping the loose end of the scarf over it's owner's shoulder for added effect. "He is the one who lost a sizable portion of the infantry to the Malboro that resides in the swamp below, hence the order to seal the shaft and reduce losses."

Ardyn stiffened, "Did he, now?" He turned to Aranea who could only nod in confirmation. With a slanted smile and an unnecessary adjustment his hat so it rested more firmly over his hair, he stepped aside and out of the personal bubble of the other two. "Seems like I owe dear Verstael a visit, then." 

"Have yourself a nice evening, Chancellor."

The visibly irritated Izunia waltzed off to the main elevator, all strings and fabric and well-worn scarves; heavy doors slid shut to his dying smile, and off he went to torment some other -more deserving- soul. 

"Thank you, sir." Aranea huffed out a lengthy, silent sigh of relief.

"For what?"

Searching his face gave no real indication if he was serious or not, but the longer she stared the more his piercing gaze softened. She wanted to accept his kindness more gratefully, but several years jumping rope through factions taught her none of these officers were to be trusted, there was always payback.

Even if they _did_ smell like sweet sylleblossoms and zesty shampoo.

She'd recently asked her childhood friends Biggs and his attached-at-the-hip partner Wedge about who the commander was. They'd gaped in astonishment at her genuine ignorance because the man was only the noblest of nobles, heir to the Tenebraean throne and the Oracle's older brother.

Which led to her learning of the sibling's story, and how they were 'guests' of the Empire while their hometown suffers under the occupation. Her underlings spent a whole evening reciting stories that ring around in the barrack hallways where the only Tenebrean soldier trained, the bullying that had to be tolerated, of the brutal ends he had to endure for a means of seizing some semblance of power over his region. They told her of their personal encounters with the little girl who became Oracle at 14, and of the ethnic cleansing of the Tenebrean people as threat and punishment for the Nox Fleruet's every tiny mistake.

It bothered her so much it made her physically sick at the time, but standing here in his shadow made it hard to believe this marble pillar of a man was the same broken boy in the stories.

At least now his uniform exposed just enough of his throat to confirm that he was no longer Niflheim's prisoner. "What did you need, commander sir?"

"At ease, Highwind."

She let her shoulders drop a notch, still tense and immensely curious that he actually remembers her name at all. "Yes?"

He didn't respond immediately, instead busied himself with the phone in his hand and whatever messages that kept popping up in close succession. His frown tightened the longer he looked at the screen, hooded eyes skimmed through the words with increasing frustration until he sighed and pushed the button that locked the device. 

Being in his silent presence was surprisingly less intimidating than Izunia, even if he did grow taller a few inches since the last time she'd seen him a couple of months back. It seems he grew more muscular as well, if his uniform was anything to go by -and she had a death wish- those pectorals would fill her palms nicely.

_How old was he now, twenty five? Twenty six?_

"I require... a _thing_." He said finally. Low, like he feared someone was listening in. "Do your services provide _discreet_ deliveries?"

"Yes." She dropped her own voice down a few notches and inched closer, aware of the possibility that what he's asking for must go under the Empire's radar. "If you can pay it, I can get it," The anxious pull on her shoulders loosened, slipping into the role of paid merchant was one of her greatest comfort zones, it was simple and familiar and people rarely attempted to murder a provider of goods.

"Excellent." He straightened from the slight hunch in his spine and combed back tousled hair with both hands until all of it was off his face, unwittingly wafting the scent of warm leather and Piztala bergamot her way. "Lunafreya is adamant about making me a _specific cake_ we'd had as children, and requires a handful of... Berries."

"...Berries?"

He met her bemused smirk with all the seriousness he could muster, which wasn't a lot; his mouth fought to curl upwards for just a second. " _Ulwaat_ berries."

_Oh, sure, Ulwaat berries... Only the rarest and most expensive fruit on Eos!_

"You got it!"

"More than a handful, to be safe." He touched a thumb to his chin in thought, "Quite the heaping mountain, actually... A bowl-full would be the exact amount, I believe." He shrugged to himself and reached under his coattails for his wallet. "I don't even like sweets, but there's only so much pestering one man can take."

Aranea looked between the heavy wad of Gil in her hand and the heart-shaped armor piece on his retreating back, slack jawed and caught halfway between insulted and impressed.

"Tonight, if you please. The guards at the estate gates will be informed to receive you."

_Making fruit bargains with the local smugglers sounded like a better way to die than at Izunia's hands, at least._


	3. Astrals and Mistrals

Niflheim was a beautiful continent rich with resources and wildlife and the most breathtaking views on Eos. It is plagued, however, with a dumbass government that would rather expand the borders on the map than help the people whose towns it conquers to do so.

Everybody has a passport with the double dragon emblem, but very few have let go of the contempt simmering under the surface at having their resources snatched away only to be replaced with heavy taxes and military aggression. Which is why Aranea was spending her long-awaited vacation knee-deep in debris with her troops in Pagla as a cleaning crew after the chaos of this week's rioting opposition.

Newcomer officer Loqi had done a number on the city square and the surrounding businesses, his new toy was testing out a flamethrower with advanced aim and in his excitement did more damage than the rioters; it got the job done scattering their assembly, though, so that's all the military cared about.

Biggs had interrupted her hectic day to inform her of even more bad news: High Commander Nox Fleuret was demanding a report, and he was demanding it _now_.

It was hot and humid in the arid port town, there was fire in three buildings and a malfunctioning MT unit struggling to pull its ax from the emperor's bronze statue; and here she was making her way through the chaos in a silk shirt and leather pants.

this was supposed to be her vacation, damn it!

She was two hours away from a peaceful retreat to Galdin Quay! Massages! Fancy Lucian cuisine! A chance for an actual tan!

The imaginary warmth of the tropical sun dissipated immediately at the sight of the tall man in the white uniform, he was in a first-aid tent surrounded by a mob of disgruntled civilians, too many to be considered safe; there were dark stains on his usually pristine garbs and his gloves were gone.

Ravus was down on one knee, one of his hands keeping him stable on the floor, while the other gripped the shoulder of an injured grandpa who was speaking slowly through tears. The usually detached high commander was attentive, listening to the elder's complaints with earnest nods and a final squeeze to his shoulder before pulling himself to his full height.

His eyes found her the moment he turned around. "Officer Highwind." his voice cut through the constant stream of murmurs and groans, an eerie silence fell through the tent as every pair of eyes settled on her. He waited for her to elbow her way through the mosh pit and stand at attention. "How goes the relief efforts?" 

Relief?

She was here to shut some rebels up and set a firm foot down; as per Izunia's commands.

Her silence spurred him into a frown -tighter than his normal everyday frown, and different than his annoyed-at-meetings frown. "Nothing? What have you been doing all day?"

She couldn't just say 'stomping the opposition' in a tent full of the fucking opposition, so why did he seem to be surprised by her lack of sympathy?

"I was otherwise occupied at the south streets, sir."

With a disappointed sigh, he brushed his hair back until none of the strays were sticking out. "Whatever it is, drop it. here are your new orders: see to it these men and women are provided with all the necessary provisions, and any healing items they require, make it before sundown."

"Yes, sir." oh boy, she hated to be in his shoes when Izunia found out...

"The ceasefire is effective immediately. All battle units are to return to base, MTs included." The oppressive mood in the tent shifted instantly, smiles and words of hope bounced around until everyone in the tent was beaming with relief. "Pull back your troops, captain, and transport the injured to Zoldara Henge, Lady Lunafreya and the disciples will be ready to receive them by the time they get there."

"But my lord," The grandpa's voice shook, "What about the deceased? My son..."

Ravus's hand resumed it's position on his shoulder and squeezed in reassurance, his voice was unusually soft. "I am no Oracle, but I am of her blood. I shall stay here and perform the blessing, if you will have me."

The anxiety buzzing in the tent brightened into a positive energy that collectively flowed outward, news of his highness Nox Fleuret personally performing the burial rites seemed to give the citizens back their faith in leadership.

Ravus Nox Fleruet was once again a generous royal in the eyes of his people, she just wished the asshole didn't throw her under the bus to achieve it.

* * *

 

It had been a long night, the last of the perishables made it safely to the medic tent where only a few concussed people remained.

Aranea tossed the last of the weapons to Wedge and told him to take the boys somewhere for a bite to eat. "I gotta dip my toes in the ocean now that I'm finally here." She offered a cheeky grin to her exhausted soldiers and made her way to the reef through dimly lit streets, shedding the cheer and fortitude with every tired step.

Pagla was a breathtaking city, known for it's foggy weather and fresh shellfish; the one and only scenic honeymoon spot in all of Niflheim. Nothing compared to Lucis's labyrinth city Lestallum, of course, nor was it a fraction of Altissia, but at least it was something.

For a stupidly large continent it was painfully sparse, it's a shame politics managed to muck everything up for the civilians by slaying the local Astral; now half the country is caught in a perpetual tundra and the other half suffers an endless drought. Even a non-believer such as herself could tell messing with the local deity was a bad idea...

Who is the fucker who agreed to fund the whole fiasco?

Aranea paused at the lookout over the picturesque Sathersea Crest to take in the sight. A pristine white beach that overlooked a foggy sunrise, the air smelled like salt water and chocobean palm sap, and one Ravus Nox Fleruet who stood defiantly opposite the crashing waves with his head held high.

Speaking of fuckers...

The high commander was without his sword, it lay sheathed on top of his discarded battle robes just a few feet away from where she stood. Without the bells and whistles, it was easy to look at that backside and assume he was a random citizen staring wistfully at a far horizon.

Aranea toed off her spiky battle boots and descended the stairs to the sandy beach, she was here to dip her toes in the ocean, and dip them she shall!

Her feet sunk pleasantly into the warm dirt, every step was an inch closer to shedding the stress of the day away, she hit cold water and it sapped the anger and exhaustion right away.

The crisp morning breeze picked dirty strands of hair off her cheeks, the scent of burning engine oil and decaying flesh remained behind, replaced with the fresh smell of morning and mysterious faraway shores; the serenity of peace after a storm was surprisingly sweet.

It was a few moments of her simply basking in the beautiful dawn before she realized the song that trickled into her ears was not coming from a radio, the only other occupant of the beach had been engrossed in his own basking; humming some delicate lullaby to himself with closed eyes and lightly entwined fingers.

Song of the Stars.

The religious members of her platoon would stand there for hours after a battle, singing the ancient hymn and crying over their fallen comrades. She never asked about the purpose of burial formalities when the deceased aren't gonna hear it, they're too busy rotting in the ground after all; but it seemed to help her men grieve and accept their loss in a way she'll never understand.

The last of the forces pulled out _hours_ ago, how long has he been standing there guiding the spirits of the dead to a nonexistent heaven?

His phone rang, interrupting the peaceful moment. Ravus had to stop mid-tune to answer because the person on the other end would not relent. "Yes? ...I am still there." He glanced down at his wrist as if his watch was supposed to be there, it wasn't. "No, I cannot make it." He turned his head in his annoyance and noticed her for the first time.

Brilliant blue eyes stared straight into her soul even as his mouth spoke to the other end, "I hadn't slept a wink, Izunia, if you're dragging me back to Gralea for another slideshow I swear to f- No, I do not have it on me right now." his free hand rose to brush invisible hair off his eyebrow. "Fine. I'll figure something out. I'll be there in an hour."

Aranea sighed, not at all surprised when he plodded through the shallow waves to talk to her. "Let me guess. You need a ride."

He set both hands on his ass, frowned, and then let them hang by his sides in anxious fists. "I forgot where I left my coat, but you will be compensated handsomely once I find my wallet."

She startled herself because the first notion of compensation her mind suggested was for him to displace the rest of his attire. "Your coat is up there by the stairs, I think someone sprayed it with paint or something, it's all acid pink now."

He didn't even look in that direction to confirm, "I doubt my people will dishonor me that way."

"You have too much faith in humanity." she shot back.

"It is not faith, but logic." He gestured to himself with a graceful hand, "You forget I am the prince-regent of this province, they are my people. Would you desecrate the only member of the imperial council who is on your side?"

Her defiant stare, however, had him glancing at the overlook only to find that he can't actually see his belongings from down here. The growing grin on her face was met with an embarrassed frown. "You jest? With an officer several ranks your superior?"

"Officially, as of twenty minutes ago, I'm on vacation!" she pulled on the lapel of her dress shirt to emphasize her lack of formal dress. "I don't have to take orders from you or anybody else!" 

"Mm." red-rimmed eyes swept over her full attire slowly, taking in the wrinkled sleeves, the heavy wear on the knees, the bare toes that wriggled into the sand at he lengthy stare, and pausing a little too noticeably over the generous cleavage. He rubbed his eyes, "Then think of this not as a command, but as a business exchange from one weary human to another: I need to be in Gralea in an hour and would pay whatever fare you deem reasonable. Agreed?"

Aranea allowed herself to take in the details of his attire as well, if only to give him a taste of how infuriating it was to be looked at like unfashionable clothes on a hanger. Also because those thighs could crush a man. "My reasonable fare is I get to ask you one question and you gotta answer me without pulling rank."

That seemed to surprise him, "You have no business meddling in my personal affairs."

"No, nothing like that," She laughed, "I just wanna know why you let Izunia trample all over you the way he does?"

A soft breeze passed between them as he considered, deciding to pick his words slowly when he finally decided to answer. "He's not all bad. I'm sure he comes on too strong at times, but only because he's driven. I cannot fathom by what, exactly, but he could see potential in me when nobody else did, and I am aware of the chances that come my way by merit of association." His hands carded through his hair to brush the mess back, some strands were clumped and brown and baby hairs kept falling over his eyes. "He has great plans to trample those imbeciles in Lucis and that happens to be my life's goal, so I plan to receive his support while our objectives coincide. We are not friends, however, so please disregard any requests from him to visit me in my private estates!"

"Alright." She grinned, pleased. "What's your beef with Lucis? Should I get a pot of popcorn or what?"

He stiffened, "That's private." And then huffed at her expectant, extended stare. "Will you deliver me to Gralea or not?"

"Fine. But my boys are out having dinner- breakfast. Whatever the fuck mealtime it is." The profanities slipped out before she could filter them, thankfully Ravus seemed to find her candor amusing. "We'll fly back when they're done, that way everyone gets to go home and you get to your meeting with the Chancellor. Is that alright with you?" 

"Yes." He offered a smile, it was more a lack of frown than an actual show of teeth. "Thank you, captain."

"Not at all, you've already paid for the taxi ride, so..."

"Hmm..."

"And call me Aranea when I'm not on duty."

He picked at the dirt in his fingernails. "I'd rather not, honestly."

She scoffed, "Fine, whatever. Let's be awkward instead."

They turned their attention to the gentle waves, the uncomfortable silence that followed was soon filled with the quiet, hoarse lyrics of the ancient hymn.

Was it always this sad? 

 


End file.
